Jeffrey did not say a word, but his expression grew grim.
Colette shook her head at his gloominess. “Come now, Jeffrey. You’ve known Yvette and her romantic notions since she was a child. Becoming a duchess is romantic to her. I’m sure she will be fine.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered rather ominously.
Colette’s heart skipped a beat as a reason for Jeffrey’s reluctance to accept Yvette’s choice occurred to her. “Is there something you’re keeping from me? Do you know something we don’t about Lord Shelley? You don’t think he’d be the type to strike her or anything like that, do you?”
“No, of course not!” he protested heatedly. “I would lock her up in her room if I thought she was placing herself in that kind of danger.”
Colette relaxed, however she was still puzzled by Jeffrey’s demeanor. “Then whatever could be the matter with him? From everything we’ve heard about him, Lord Shelley is a very nice gentleman from a fine family. Yvette tells me that he’s good looking, titled, wealthy, and mad about her. What more could any girl wish for in a husband?”
Jeffrey opened his mouth, on the verge of saying something, but stopped himself at the last second. He shook his head. “You’re absolutely right. My opinion is of no value in this instance. It’s Yvette’s wishes that matter the most. Lord Shelley is everything a girl could wish for in a husband. She should marry him and she will no doubt be quite happy.”
Something about his answer struck Colette as odd. In fact, Jeffrey’s whole manner seemed peculiar this afternoon. Granted, she had not seen him in months, but she’d known the man long enough to know when something was amiss and he was certainly not acting like himself in regard to Yvette. She was about to question him further when Juliette burst into the drawing room.
“Jeffrey!”
“Juliette!” Smiling, he rose to his feet and they rushed to embrace each other. “You beautiful girl! It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen you!”
Colette watched him carefully and wondered. He seemed quite like his usual old self now with Juliette, teasing and laughing with her. But something was definitely different about Jeffrey Eddington. Somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling that it had something to do with her youngest sister.
22
Christmas Season
“How do you manage to always look more beautiful every time I see you, Yvette?” Lord Shelley flirted with her as they waltzed about the spacious ballroom in Lady Deane’s townhouse.
“And you look most dashing, William,” Yvette answered with a bright smile that for some reason she did not entirely feel. She was wearing another new gown, this one cut in the same daring style as the sapphire gown, but in a rich shade of gold.
“You must be happy all your sisters are home again,” William said. He moved her expertly to the music.
“Yes, I am. I’m always happy when my sisters are together.” And she was glad. Mostly.
Devon House was now bursting at the seams with the hustle and bustle of her family and little nieces and nephews once again. She loved having them all home, but strangely she also found that she missed the peace and quiet of having the house to herself. She had grown quite used to it during the past three months.
But more than anything, she would miss the time she’d had alone with Jeffrey over dinner each evening. Their little interlude together had come to an abrupt end with her sisters’ homecoming. She had not seen Jeffrey since the night he kissed her. That kiss, which had sent shivers of delight through her entire body, had been all she could think about.
Yvette wondered if he felt as awkward as she did after their kiss. Had it changed things between them? She thought it might have, for how could it not? The kiss they’d shared had left her most unsettled and she had been unable to focus on anything else clearly since it happened. That kiss had made her feel things she hadn’t felt before.
Things she had certainly not felt with William Weatherly.
Jeffrey’s kiss had left her breathless and dizzy and longing for more. She had wanted the kiss to go on and on and on. Surprisingly, she had wanted even more from him. She had wanted him to touch her, craved for him to touch her. It was more romantic and passionate than she imagined a kiss could possibly be.
“I’m happy that you’re happy, Yvette.” Lord Shelley beamed at her.
Yvette stared at the handsome man dancing with her, wondering why she felt nothing when he kissed her, when she wanted to feel something most desperately.
The waltz ended and Lord Shelley escorted her from the dance floor. The Earl of Babey, a handsome and notorious rake, smiled wolfishly at her as they approached him. Yvette had a feeling it was due to the daring cut of her gold gown.
“Lord Shelley!” Lord Babey called, shaking hands with William. “It’s good to see you.” He turned his attention to Yvette. “And Miss Hamilton. You’re looking ravishing this evening.”
“Why, thank you, Lord Babey!” Yvette smiled back at him.
“Please don’t tell me a beautiful girl like you is falling for this old man!” he teased, inclining his head toward William.
“Better she falls in love with me, than an inveterate gambler like you, Babey!” William shot back with a wicked grin.
Yvette laughed at the two men’s banter, but inside she felt a twinge of guilt. Naturally, William thought she was in love with him. Yet she wasn’t.
“So I take it you have heard about my newest business venture, then, eh, Shelley?” Lord Babey asked, his face alight with excitement.
William looked somewhat amused, nodding his head a little. “Yes, yes, I have.”
Lord Babey laughed loudly. “And you know no good can come of that!” He winked broadly at them before continuing on into the ballroom.
William raised an eyebrow at the notorious earl’s departure. He whispered low to Yvette. “It’s amazing how society always overlooks Lord Babey’s outrageous behavior. The man knows no bounds. The word is he has now become an impresario and has even opened a new gaming hall.”
“Well, I think he’s most charming,” Yvette murmured absently, as William continued to walk with her. In spite of what everyone said about Lord Babey, she found him to be quite amusing.
“Have you spent much time in his company?” William asked.
“Not overly much. He is a friend of Jeffrey’s. But he always makes me laugh.” Yvette added, “And he’s a good dancer.”
William eyed her with an amused smile. “But not as good as I am, I hope?”
“Of course not.” She shook her head, wishing to soothe his vanity. Neither of them was as good a dancer as Jeffrey. But she kept that thought to herself.
Anxiously, Yvette scanned the crowded ballroom for Jeffrey, wondering if he would be in attendance this evening. She missed his smile and their long talks and his comforting presence, and she could not stop reliving their wonderful kiss and her wanton response to him.
The more she thought about it, the more embarrassed she became. Yvette had asked him to kiss her. She had let him undo her hair. She had run her fingers through his hair. Like some sort of loose woman, she had pressed her body against his, and sighed and groaned into his mouth. Oh, his mouth! His mouth, his lips, his tongue had been—
Yvette shook herself from her errant thoughts. She had behaved scandalously with Jeffrey. She was grateful that she had been at the dressmaker when he’d come by Devon House earlier that afternoon and had been spared facing him.
“I am very much looking forward to meeting your sisters tomorrow, Yvette.”
She glanced up at William, who smiled at her so sweetly. “And they are quite eager to meet you too. I’ve told them all about you.”
Colette had invited Lord Shelley to tea tomorrow, and all four of her sisters would be there with their husbands. Yvette felt surprisingly nervous about it and wasn’t quite sure why.
When her sisters had all arrived at Devon House, she had confessed to them her courtship with Lord Shelley and his intent
ions toward marriage. They had all seemed very happy for her. Yet for some reason, telling her sisters that she was about to become a duchess hadn’t felt as dramatic and important as she had imagined. She felt oddly deflated and not as happy as a girl ought to be, all things considered, when she had a future duke practically offering for her hand!
She could not help but believe that her intense reaction to Jeffrey’s kisses and her complete indifference to William’s kisses had something to do with her sudden state of confusion. Both men were very experienced and rumored to have been with many women, and their friendship with Lord Babey was further proof of that. But could it be that Jeffrey was somehow more skilled in the area of kissing than Lord Shelley? It was a distinct possibility and one that she had been pondering ever since it happened.
What else could be the difference between them?
With Jeffrey, everything had been most unexpected. His kiss had taken her by surprise, because she had not been expecting to have those wild, passionate feelings with him, whereas with William she had wished for his kisses to be something special. Perhaps her expectations with him had been too high? There was no element of surprise. She needed for William to kiss her again, when she was not expecting anything to happen.
She suddenly noticed that Lord Shelley had led her from the ballroom and they were now walking along a quiet corridor. So lost in her thoughts had she been, that she had not realized where she was.
“Where are we going, William?”
He patted her arm in reassurance. “Lady Deane invited me to view a new painting she acquired last week. I thought you might like to look at it with me.”
“That would be lovely,” she answered with a smile. He was arranging for them to be alone! How convenient! If William tried to kiss her, Yvette would simply relax and let the mood take over.
They entered a small, elegant parlor with rich scarlet wallpaper and a thick, flower-patterned rug. A fire had been lit earlier, so the room was very warm. A few sconces flickered on the walls.
“I believe this is it.” He guided her to the marble fireplace, where a pretty oil painting was mounted above the mantel. It depicted a summer scene of elegantly dressed people on the shore of a lake. “Yes, this is it. It’s by a French painter. A fellow named Renoir. Do you like it, Yvette?”
“Yes, it’s very pretty.” Yvette was not in the mood to concentrate on a picture at the moment. She found the painting pleasant enough, but did not care about it one way or another. “The colors are quite nice. Especially the greens.”
“Yes, aren’t they? I had an opportunity to buy it, but I turned it down and let Lady Deane have it. Now I’m wondering if I made a mistake. Would you care to have something like it in our home one day?” He turned his attention from the painting to her.
Yvette stared up at him. “In our home?” she echoed his question.
“Forgive me for thinking aloud.” He shook his head in disbelief, smiling warmly at her. “Oh, Yvette, when you are near me, I can’t think straight and I lose all restraint. I should not have even brought you in here.”
“I . . . I don’t know what to say,” she murmured. Her cheeks suddenly burned.
“There’s no reason for you to say anything, my dearest.”
William pulled her into his arms and before she knew it, he was kissing her. He didn’t ask permission this time, and for that she was most grateful. Now he was kissing her! She closed her eyes in an attempt to relax and let the feelings just come to her.
His mouth moved over hers and his breathing became more rapid. Yvette turned into his embrace, waiting in anticipation for the dizzy, breathless sensation to come over her as it had with Jeffrey, certain it could happen this time with William. She waited. William’s kissing became more insistent and he held her tighter. His tongue entered her mouth and she kissed him back, but those wild feelings didn’t come over her. The kiss went on and on and she put her arms around him, waiting, hoping.
But that wild, passionate, dizzying sensation never came.
William moved from kissing her mouth to her cheek and his lips began sliding down, kissing her neck, all the while he murmured her name as he pressed his lips to her bare flesh. She ought to be feeling something by now! She sighed in growing frustration.
“Oh, Yvette,” William moaned against her throat, nuzzling her and lowering his head toward her chest.
Recalling that she was wearing the low-cut gold gown and realizing where his mouth was moving, instinctively Yvette pulled away from him. “William, please.”
At her words, he stopped abruptly. Coming to his senses, he stared at her, his hazel eyes blazing. “Forgive me, Yvette. You make me forget myself.”
Yvette wished fervently that she felt for him even half of what he obviously felt for her. What on earth was wrong with her? “I forgive you, William. And I—”
Their attention was suddenly caught by a sound at the door. “Ahem.” A male voice cleared its throat purposely. Loudly. “Excuse me.”
“Jeffrey.” Yvette’s legs trembled at the sight of him.
“Eddington,” William muttered through clenched teeth. He took a step away from Yvette and adjusted his jacket somewhat nervously, but he looked very sure of himself.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Jeffrey’s deep blue eyes settled on Yvette for an instant, then turned to William. “Lady Deane is looking everywhere for you, Shelley. There’s been a message from your mother. You’re wanted at Lansdowne Manor right away. There is some sort of emergency.”
William’s face paled at the news and Yvette’s heart went out to him. “Oh, William.”
“Oh. I see. Thank you, Eddington, for letting me know.” He looked to Yvette, his expression pained. “Forgive me, Yvette. I must go.”
“Of course you must, William. I understand. I do hope it is nothing too serious.”
Jeffrey spoke up. “You’d best hurry. Don’t worry, Shelley, I’ll see that Miss Hamilton is looked after.”
“Thank you.” William looked torn. He took Yvette’s hand in his and raised it to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to her fingers. “I hope I shall still be able to visit you tomorrow and meet your sisters, Yvette.”
“So do I.”
“I shall send you a message as soon as I can. Good night.” He released her hand and hurried from the room, leaving Yvette and Jeffrey very much alone in Lady Deane’s little parlor.
They stared at each other in silence.
As usual Jeffrey looked incredibly handsome in his black evening suit. Tall and broad, he filled it out most impressively. He really was the most handsome man she had ever known.
With deliberate slowness, he closed the parlor door and walked toward her. Yvette’s heart quickened and a shiver raced over her, in spite of the warmth of the room. She unconsciously backed away from him until she found herself against the wall.
“Jeffrey.”
“Yvette.” He stopped mere inches from her, leaning one hand on the wall beside her head.
“It’s good to see you again.” She licked her lips. “I haven’t seen you since . . . since we . . .”
“Since we kissed?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her.
“Mmm hmm,” she murmured like a witless fool. He smelled so good and he was so close to her she couldn’t think clearly.
His head lowered toward her. “And what have you been thinking about our kiss, Yvette?” He reached out gently and brushed a stray curl from her face.
She almost gasped at his touch. “It was . . .” She fumbled for the words.
“Yes?” he prompted her, his eyes narrowing.
Feeling a little breathless, she said, “I . . . I can’t stop thinking about it. It made me feel quite faint.”
He smiled then, a heart-melting smile that left her a little breathless. “And here I was afraid you might be upset with me for kissing you.”
“Why would I be upset with you, Jeffrey?” Again, he flashed her a smile that made her knees a bit weak. Why did Jeffrey suddenly have this s
trange effect on her? Nothing made sense anymore. “But I was feeling that I should apologize to you for my behavior.”
“Apologize for your behavior?” He looked incredulous.
“Yes, I acted a bit brazenly and I want to apol—”
“No.” He shook his head, holding up his hand. “Do not apologize to me, Yvette. There’s nothing at all for you to be sorry for last night. You were perfect.”
“But, Jeffrey, I wasn’t. I asked you to kiss me!”
“If anyone should apologize, it should be me. But I’m not going to.”
“You’re not?” It was her turn to be incredulous.
His expression suddenly darkened. “No, not if you’re allowing Lord Shelley to kiss you as you just did.”
A little embarrassed that he had seen her kissing William, she lifted her chin defiantly. “I merely was experimenting.”
“Experimenting? Pray, go on. . . .”
“Yes.” She swallowed nervously, as she looked into his fathomless blue eyes. “You see, I . . . I felt . . . something when you kissed me.”
He grew silent and stared at her. His words were ever so soft. “What did you feel when I kissed you?”
Yvette’s heart began to race. “Everything. Feelings I didn’t know existed.”
His eyes bored into her, but she could not read his expression, his thoughts.
“And when Shelley kissed you just now?” he asked again.
She stared back at him and confessed. “I still felt nothing.”
He exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. “Nothing?”
“Nothing at all.” She shook her head in confirmation.
Suddenly the air around them fairly crackled with heat and tension. He placed his hands possessively on her shoulders and drew her closer to him, his arms holding her tight.
“I want you to feel something only when I kiss you, Yvette.”
Yvette sucked in her breath. Her whole body was on pins and needles in anticipation. “Jeffrey, I . . .”
His By Christmas (Hamilton Sisters) Page 17
